


Prompt Ficlet Collection

by chronicopheliac



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Basically a smorgasbord of stuff, Ficlet Collection, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Smut, Tumblr Prompt, prompt collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-02-09 04:39:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12880356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chronicopheliac/pseuds/chronicopheliac
Summary: Collection of short fics I've done on Tumblr.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dialogue prompt: “You expect me to walk home with you dressed like that.”

“Hannibal Lecter.”

Water dripped from Hannibal’s hair into his eyes. He rubbed it away. “That’s my name, yes.”

“Defeated by a bunch of kids.” Will shook his head.

Hannibal sniffed. “That’s not the word I would use.”

“Of course it isn’t.”

“Can we please go home, now?” Hannibal straightened his back. The picture of dignity.

Will snorted. “You expect me to walk home with you dressed like that.”

“You could be a gentleman and offer me your shirt, at least.”

“I don’t think that would do much to solve the problem.” Will gave Hannibal an exaggerated once over, eyes lingering over his ass.

“I could tie it around my waist.”

“This is your own fault.”

“I couldn’t have predicted–”

“I’m talking about you wearing that tiny little speedo. It’s so damn distracting, I didn’t see those damn kids take your stuff.”

There was a time Hannibal was able to control his emotions, so they didn’t show on his face. Will tended to confound everything, however, and Hannibal couldn’t help his grin.

“You find my body distracting?”

“Hannibal.”

Hannibal stepped closer. “Answer the question, Will.”

Folding his arms obstinately, Will stared at the ground. “It’s not the point–”

“You find me attractive.”

“– the point is you draw attention to your–”

“What’s your favourite part?” Hannibal tugged at Will’s arms, unfolding them to impose himself further. “My chest? My shoulders?”

“– ass and… bulge, and–”

“Ah, that was my next guess.”

A sigh. “We probably shouldn’t come to public beaches anymore. It’s too risky.”

Hannibal guided Will’s hands to his backside. “You were the one who said it would be suspicious if we didn’t get out once in awhile.”

“You’re wet.”

“Yes.”

“We have a private beach.”

“You’re jealous.”

“… Maybe.”

Nuzzling his wet nose behind Will’s ear, Hannibal pressed close. “I like it.”

“You would.” Will tilted his head despite himself. A shiver made his hands twitch, grabbing Hannibal’s ass. He allowed a moment to indulge before taking off his shirt and shoving it at Hannibal’s chest. “Now put this on.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Turn it around.”

“Like this?” Hannibal arranged the shirt to cover his front.

“And walk in front of me.”

“Do you intend to attempt to maintain my virtue?”

“Ha!”

Hannibal pouted.

“Aww, I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

“Well, no. But it’s the thought that counts?”

“Will.”

Will came up behind him and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. “You can admonish me when we get home.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”


	2. Jet Lag Snuggles

Hannibal slumped in his seat and landed against Will. He woke with a start. “Oh, ah. My apologies, Will.”

“Heh, don’t worry about it.” Will couldn’t hold back a smile.

Hannibal didn’t have to be here. He’d insisted, claiming he wanted to help with the case. But Will knew it was for his benefit. Hannibal was worried about him. Not in the way Alana worried about him, with knitted brows and kid gloves. Hannibal believed in Will. Trusted him. Maybe a little too much, if that little Freddie Lounds incident was any indication.

Actually, Will suspected Hannibal was pretty entertained by the whole thing. It was rather a nice change, from the way people usually treated him. Also nice to have someone who cared enough to sacrifice sleep. It was their fourth flight that week. From Baltimore, to Indianapolis, back to Baltimore, then Cincinnati. A killer was on the move, always two steps ahead. It was fucking exhausting.

Hannibal slumped again, head landing on Will’s shoulder. A soft snore confirmed he’d fallen asleep.

Will had to admit, he appreciated having Hannibal there. Something stable and familiar, just in case. Part of him felt guilty, too. Hannibal almost looked worse than him, when he’d picked Will up to go to the airport.

He didn’t have the heart to move or wake him. The flight wasn’t quite two hours, but they wouldn’t have time for a nap when they landed.

It was so warm, with Hannibal’s body against him. Comfortable. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to catch a few winks himself. Sinking down in his seat, he let his head loll to the side, cheek pressed against the top of Hannibal’s head.

As he drifted, he swore he could hear Jimmy’s voice say, “Aww, lookit those two! Someone get a picture, that’s going in the Christmas party yearbook!”


	3. Butter Me Up

“Okay so.” Will tore a piece of paper in half, and handed one to Hannibal. “I’ll take half the list, you take the other, we meet back here in–”

“Will.”

“What?”

“Is there a reason you’re in such a hurry?”

“… No.”

Hannibal leveled a stern look at Will. “I can’t help but notice my half of the list doesn’t include any actual food.”

“Instant noodles are food! We need non-perishables, Hannibal.”

“We might perish if this is what you expect us to subsist on.”

Will scoffed. “We also might perish if you think we can afford to eat fucking white truffles and beluga caviar.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Will. The Beluga sturgeon is critically endangered, I would not want to contribute to the death of such a magnificent species.”

“Uh… huh. Magnificent. It’s an ugly fucking fish, Hannibal. No caviar.”

Fussing at some lint on his sleeve, Hannibal sniffed. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Will. But please. No instant noodles.”

“Whatever. Get some regular fucking pasta then, but you better get canned soup to go with it.”

“You know, when I said we would do this your way, I–”

Will whirled around, jaw clenched. “What. What Hannibal. You thought we were going to go to the farmer’s market and buy fresh, local organic produce? Free range people, maybe?”

Letting out a sigh, Hannibal cupped Will’s cheek and ran his thumb over the scar. “I was going to say, I thought we would be doing it  _together_. Not splitting the list.”

“… Oh. Uh.” Will looked down at their shoes. “I just thought. It’d be faster this way.”

“I don’t want to rush, Will. I want to cherish every moment we have together.”

What could one even say to that? Will’s cheeks turned pink, and he grabbed Hannibal’s hand from his face. He didn’t let go as he started heading for the deli section. “Fine. You fucking sap. But. Just because you buttered me up doesn’t mean you get truffles or any of that shit.”

“Of course not. I buttered you up so I can enjoy you, later.”

“God damnit.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt by erodingthebluff: for the minific thing? 9. things you said when i was crying, hannigram with Hannibal crying? I just love our cannibal being vulnerable... pretty please?

It wasn’t unusual for Hannibal to spend some evenings alone in his own bedroom. But as Will passed the door, he saw the fire had gone out in the fireplace. 

No music played. There was no reading light for a book or sketching. Hannibal was just sitting in the dark, on the bench at the foot of his bed. 

Will sat beside him. The moonlight from the window caught on the sharp lines of Hannibal’s face, and Will realized they were tracked with tears.

“Hey.”  


If Hannibal was ashamed, he didn’t show it. He acknowledged Will with a sigh.

“Y’know, you haven’t always been easy to read. Or deal with. But over the years, I’ve come to accept you’re prone to being pretty dramatic.”  


Hannibal didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes said ‘you better have a point, Will.’

“But this, Hannibal? Sitting in the dark all alone, crying? This is some Blanche Dubois level bullshit.”  


“While I appreciate your touching concern, my open door was not an invitation.”  


Will tilted his head, taking in the tension in Hannibal’s posture, the downcast lines of his features. “You’ve never had someone else around before. On this day.”

Again Hannibal didn’t answer, but a twitch at the corner of his mouth told Will all he needed to know.

Part of him really wanted to find a place to stick a knife. Kick Hannibal while he was down. It would serve him right. But Will couldn’t help how he reacted to wounded birds. So instead, he pulled Hannibal into his arms.  
  
Though Hannibal didn’t make a sound, his shoulders shook as he buried his face against Will’s neck. Trembling fingers curled into Will’s shirt at his sides. Will stroked a soothing hand down Hannibal’s back, carefully avoiding the ridges of the scar he didn’t want to think about.  
  
“You’re not alone anymore, Hannibal. Not ever again. You understand?”

Hannibal nodded, soaking Will’s shirt with his tears.

“I mean it. If you ever try to leave me, I’ll kill you.”  


Sobs turned to soft laughter. Hannibal pulled back to look at Will. Backlit by the moon shining through the window, most of Hannibal’s face was cast in shadow. But Will saw the glint in Hannibal’s eye, something painfully vulnerable, right before Hannibal kissed him.

Will thought it was good they were sitting; he was pretty sure his legs turned to rubber.

“Promise me,” Hannibal said against Will’s lips.  


“Oh, I promise. I’ll fucking gut you.”  


“Mm.” Hannibal kissed him again. “Good.”  



	5. My Friend, the Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Will finds out Hannibal has a Prince Albert piercing.

“… Huh.”

“Yes?”

“Well. “

“Is there a problem, Will?”

“No, n-not… Not a problem. But. “

“But?”

“It's… unexpected. “

“Is it?”

“Well you normally seem so… buttoned up. This? This conjures images of leather chaps and whips and chains.”

“I was perhaps a little wild in my youth.”

“A little?”

“I’ve always believed one should try everything at least once. Does it bother you?”

“I… No. It doesn’t. I’m just… not sure how to…”

“It’s no different than any other penis, Will.”

“I beg to differ.”

“If it really does bother you–”

“I just can’t believe you kept it, after all these years. What did Alana say– Wait. No. Don’t tell me. And wipe that stupid smirk off your face.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Okay. So I guess… here goes nothing.”

“Oh…”

“Oh?”

“Are you certain this is your first time?”

“Why, am I doing particularly well?”

“Your tongue is very skillful.”

“Oh. Well. I was just… trying to imagine… uh.”

“What?”

“Sucking my own dick.”

“Will. I am shocked. That’s awfully narcissistic of you.”

“You said you liked it.”

“I do.”

“So?”

“Continue, dear Will. Please.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #14 things you said after you kissed me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [From this prompt list](http://chronicopheliac.tumblr.com/post/170559488055/send-me-a-ship-and-one-of-these-and-ill-write-a)

The first time they kiss is on the shore where they washed up.

Filthy, caked with blood and sand, they cling to each other still, as though the water hadn’t managed to break them apart. Hannibal smooths back Will’s damp curls with a shaky hand.

It’s Will who leans in first. The kiss is salty, tinged with blood. Painful and messy and perfect. Hannibal forgets to breathe, stricken with the weight of his desire.

“Will…”

“Is t-this… s-something you wanted, too?” Will coughs up blood and sea water, resting his head against Hannibal’s shoulder.

“It… may have crossed my mind.”

“When?”

“When I first laid eyes upon you, in Jack’s office.”

Will laughs, a wet, ragged sound. “Before you imagined the murder?”

“Yes.”

“Well… fuck. Should’ve just gone with that.”

“Nonsense.”

“How’s that nonsense?”

Hannibal steals another kiss, parting Will’s lips with his tongue. “Because now, I have both.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #6 things you said under the stars and in the grass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [From this prompt list](http://chronicopheliac.tumblr.com/post/170559488055/send-me-a-ship-and-one-of-these-and-ill-write-a)

“What the fuck are you looking at, gorgeous?”

Adam startles at the gruff voice that comes from behind. He turns to see an equally gruff-looking man, holding a cigarette. “I’m looking at constellations. See? There’s Lyra, and that bright star right there is Vega. Vega is twenty-five point zero five light year—”

“I didn’t ask for the fucking details, did I?”

“O-oh. Sorry.” Adam stares down at his shoes, fussing with the sleeve of his sweater. “I j-just assumed that—”

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to fucking assume?

Adam shrinks back, cheeks flushing. “I-I didn’t know my mother. Y-you’re being very rude, sir, and I don’t appreciate—”

The man scoffs and takes a drag of his cigarette. “I’m being fucking rude? You’re the one who’s fuckin—”

“Don’t interrupt me! J-just because I’m, I’m smaller than you or not so tough doesn’t mean it’s okay to be a bully!” Adam huffs, hands tightening into fists.

Letting out an impressed whistle, the man holds out his hands in surrender. “Whoa, okay starman, calm your tits.”

Adam’s gaze is drawn to the man’s grin, boyish with an edge of danger. But he doesn’t allow himself to be so easily placated, and he lifts his chin with a petulant glare. “That’s not a very nice word. In my experience, women don’t like it very much.”

The man takes a step toward him, close enough to pick at some fuzz on Adam’s shoulder. “Well, you’re not a woman, are you?”

“N-no, but you still shouldn’t say it.”

“Got a lot of fucking ideas on what I should and shouldn’t do, huh?”

“I do my best to understand what people expect in social interactions. I don’t like to upset people. You seem to be having trouble as well.”

“Do I?”

Adam nods. “For instance, you’re very close to me and it’s making me uncomfortable. And you touched me without my permission.”

Stepping back, the man laughs and rubs at the back of his neck. “You’re a fucking funny guy, starman. All right, all right. I’m a rude fucking bastard and I don’t know how to fucking talk to people, yeah?”

“U-uh. It appears that way, yes.”

“How about you teach me?”

“What?”

“You fucking teach me. I can’t say tits, I can’t get too close, what the fuck else?”

This time, Adam laughs. The man is coarse and rude, but oddly charming. “You probably shouldn’t swear so much.”

“Ah, fuck. Fuck! Goddammit. Shit. Sorry. I’m… not used to not fucking swearing.”

“That’s okay, we can practice.” Adam holds out his hand. “Hi, I’m Adam Raki. It’s nice to meet you.”

Grinning, the man takes Adam’s hand. Instead of shaking it, however, he brings it up to his lips and kisses Adam’s knuckles. “Hi gorgeous. You can call me Nigel.”

Flushing scarlet, the only thing Adam can think is,  _Oh, I’m in trouble._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 49\. “I may be an idiot, but I’m your idiot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [From this prompt list!](http://chronicopheliac.tumblr.com/post/170737879150/writing-prompts)

The recipe seemed straightforward enough. A Greek-inspired recipe, cooking fish in a pouch of parchment paper. Only Will didn’t have any parchment paper, as he thought he did. And Hannibal was going to be home any minute. It was supposed to be a quick recipe, twenty minutes. Tasty and simple, though it might give the impression more work had gone into it. Something Will had hoped would impress Hannibal.

In a panic, he searched every kitchen drawer. He found wax paper in one; it would have to do.

He got everything wrapped and in the oven just as Hannibal’s familiar footsteps approached the door. As Hannibal entered, Will had a glass of wine at the ready.

“Welcome home,” Will said with a quick kiss.

Hannibal hung his coat and took the glass, charmed. “To what do I owe such a warm welcome? And,” he scented the air, “dinner?”

“You were gone the whole day. I thought it might be nice to come home to dinner and, uh… me.”

A smirk tugged at Hannibal’s lips. “Did you entertain thoughts of leaving?”

“Force of habit. But I didn’t leave.” Will flushed, and busied himself with putting the finishing touches on setting the table.

The centrepiece wasn’t so ostentatious as Hannibal might have preferred, but it was something. More than Will would have bothered to do on his own. The whole performance was really a reward, of sorts, for them both. Will for staying, Hannibal for managing to last the entirety of their six months in Rio de Janeiro without killing anyone.

Hannibal wrapped his arms around Will’s waist from behind. He tucked his nose behind Will’s ear, breathing deeply. “… Will.”

“Hm?” He leaned against Hannibal’s chest, the tension of missing him releasing by measures.

“Is something burning?”

“W-wha…? O-oh shit!”

Will ran to the kitchen. When he opened the oven door, smoke billowed out in his face. Coughing, he fanned the smoke aside with an oven mitt while slipping on the other to take out the tray.

The paper was melted and blackened. Dinner was ruined.

Will’s shoulders sagged. “Son of a fucking bitch.”

“Is everything all right?”

“No. I fucked up dinner.”

Hannibal leaned over Will’s shoulder to survey the damage. “Will.”

“… What.”

“Is that wax paper?”

“Yeah… why?”

“And you put it in the oven.”

“Obviously. We didn’t have parchment paper, so–”

“Wax paper is not a substitute for parchment paper, Will. You could have burned the house down.”

“I see that, now. Yeah.” Will sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Fuck. I didn’t think there was that much of a difference.”

“I’m shocked, Will. I didn’t take you for an idiot.”

“Yeah, well. I may be an idiot, but I’m your idiot.”

With a soft laugh, Hannibal turned Will around and pulled him in for a kiss. “I suppose you are. Shall we go out for dinner?”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Too tired to help you salvage this mess, but there’s the little place on the corner.”

Will’s hands found their way down to Hannibal’s ass. “You’re very forgiving these days.”

“Mm. I find myself motivated by greater rewards as of late.”

“Maybe when we get back, you’ll find another one.”

“Oh?”

“I might have found more than recipes on the internet.”

“ _Oh._ ”


	9. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [bloodyilaria](http://bloodyilaria.tumblr.com%22) on Tumblr. [From this prompt list](http://chronicopheliac.tumblr.com/post/170737879150/writing-prompts). Feel free to send me a prompt as well!

The worst part of the plan to lure Hannibal into revealing himself was dinner at his house. It was the place where the slope was most slippery. Easier to get lost. Or caught.

Will arrived at the usual time and let himself in. He found Hannibal in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up and chopping some herbs.

Hannibal didn’t need to turn around. He knew Will was there. “Good evening, Will.”

“It’s evening. Don’t know what’s good about it.”

Will’s remark earned a soft laugh. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“Not particularly. Anything I can help with?”

“That depends.” Hannibal tossed the pile of herbs into a little bowl, then slid a cutting board of vegetables toward Will. “Are you willing to take on the responsibility of slicing the vegetables?”

“Is it that big of a responsibility?”

Hannibal demonstrated on a carrot. Unsurprisingly, each slice was perfectly uniform. He held the knife handle out to Will. “Some will have to be cut a little thicker so everything cooks properly.”

Will took the knife, warily approaching the cutting board. “Christ. You sure you want to trust me with this?”

“I have the utmost faith in you, Will.”

“I don’t know. It’s a lot of pressure. What about the zucchini?”

“If you’ll allow me to show you…” Hannibal stepped in behind, and wrapped his hands around Will’s. He adjusted Will’s grip on the knife and the zucchini, then began to slice. “Zucchini cooks faster than carrot, so the slices should be made thicker.”

The heat from Hannibal’s body seeped into Will’s bones. Guilt immediately followed. He shouldn’t enjoy the press of Hannibal against his back, or the gentle way Hannibal guided his hands. He was glad to be facing away, so Hannibal couldn’t see the flush on his cheeks.

He cleared his throat. “I… think I can take it from here, thanks.”

Will found himself distracted by Hannibal’s hands. The memory of Hannibal in the back of the ambulance, wrist-deep in someone else’s body cavity, drifted to the surface. He couldn’t believe he’d managed to allow the knowledge of Hannibal’s skilled hands to slip his mind. At any rate, he certainly remembered now.

He was grateful Hannibal didn’t remark on his preoccupied state. Because obviously Hannibal noticed. Will had no illusions that Hannibal missed the way he kept stealing glances and fidgeting.

Finally, dinner was served. They sat at their usual places across from each other at the table. To Will’s relief, conversation was directed to more comfortable topics. Philosophy. Hubris. Thinly veiled talks around murder. Though Will couldn’t help noticing a shift in the air between them. Hannibal leaned a little closer. His gaze seemed to drift to Will’s lips rather than his eyes.

Usually, if Will was persuaded to have an after dinner drink, they stayed in the dining room. One drink, then Will went home. But tonight, Hannibal drew him to the living room. He directed Will to the sofa and brought him a whiskey. He poured a brandy for himself. He sat close.

Heat seared Will’s thigh where they touched. “This is… a change.”

“Have I made you uncomfortable, Will?”

_Yes._  “No. But I’m curious as to why.”

“I thought we might enjoy our conversation in a more intimate setting. Another wall between us dismantled.”

Will tipped the glass to his lips. The whiskey left a pleasant tingle at the back of his throat. “There aren’t many left. You smashed most of them.”

“I admit, I am at times a bit overzealous when it comes to getting what I want.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.”

Hannibal put his brandy on the coffee table. “Are you so certain I’m not?”

_Oh._  “Less certain, now.”

Hannibal leaned in. He took Will’s glass and set it aside. “Perhaps the last walls between us require a gentler touch.”

It was a very slippery slope. Will knew he should leave. Put an end to whatever this was.

Instead, he closed the gap and brought their lips together.

He was lost.


End file.
